Silvan Soldier
by randomwriter96
Summary: *Chapter 10 up* (Thranduil's first encounter with evil). Childhood and life thereon of little Thranduil. Main chars: Thranduil, Oropher, Gil-galad, Galion. Reviews greatly appreciated.
1. Ink bottles

Silvan Soldier  
  
randomwriter96  
  
Disclaimer: Own nothing. Have nothing. ^^; Therefore, don't sue. Have nothing = have no money. Oo; Unless you absolutely have to have 15 cents...  
  
Note: This is my attempt at recreating Thranduil's childhood and life thereon using the info I have from the Silmarillion, the Unfinished Tales, LOTR, etc. And websites such as the Encyclopedia of Arda. Do not hesitate to tell me if I have a mistake or not. ^^;  
  
Enjoy. :o)  
  
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"Oh! Thranduil, don't touch-" Oropher reached out helplessly towards his only son as yet another ink bottle smashed onto the smooth rock floor. "- that...." Thranduil then proceeded to splash about in the spilled ink, giggling and clapping his hands. Oropher's heart melted, although he knew he should reprimand the child.  
  
At the time of the Second Age, the realm of a significant number of Silvan Elves was peacefully held and reigned by Oropher, a prince of Sindarin descent, in Greenwood the Great. Though rustic compared to those of the High Elves and such, the Silvan Elves were quite content, claiming that they wanted to live the life of the Elves before the Valar had come to meet them. Oropher was a leader of peace, never involving his people unless they were desperately needed.  
  
"Thranduil! Come here. Come on," Oropher eyed the broken glass worriedly, attempting to lead his child away from it. Oropher was ever protective of his son ever since his wife died of childbirth complications with Thranduil. Thranduil was who Oropher poured all of his love into.  
  
"Ah!" Thranduil giggled again and toddled over to his father, smearing his ink-stained hands on his pants. Oropher let out a chuckle, shaking his head. Again would Thranduil have to have new clothes. The mistress weaver would not be pleased. Oropher swept his son up, kissing his chubby, glowing cheeks. Elves who passed by the small study room couldn't suppress a smile, knowing full well that Thranduil was the gem of the realm.  
  
"Time to take a bath and go to bed EARLY. I don't want you sleeping in the middle of the day again. You make the handmaidens fret too much," Oropher lightly scolded Thranduil, tapping his forehead. Thranduil looked up and grasped his father's finger, squeezing and cuddling it.  
  
"How I wish you would never grow up. You have your mother's eyes," Oropher wistfully gazed into Thranduil's deep brown eyes with his own green-hazel ones. "But you will. And you shall rule this realm after me, for I will get weary and old. And cranky." Oropher grinned while shedding off his son's clothes and dipped him into a small bathtub. "I would hope that you would learn not to spill anymore ink bottles by then." Thranduil laughed as Oropher tickled him.  
  
"My Lord? Malgalad of Lórien is here to see you. It concerns the power of the Dwarves of Hadhodrond," A sentinel addressed the king, the slightest crease of worry in his eyebrows. Oropher sighed, passing a wooden toy boat to his son before kissing him on the head. He stood up and unrolled the sleeves of his robes. A handmaiden was summoned to finish up Thranduil's bath and to put him to bed.  
  
"It is not dire news, then?" Oropher asked the sentinel.  
  
"I do not believe so, but Lord Malgalad's face was solemn enough for worry, my Lord,"  
  
"End the lessons of the youngsters. I will need much silence and privacy," Oropher rubbed his forehead and pushed back the brown hanging strands.  
  
"As you wish it, my Lord," the sentinel bowed, then exited, leaving Oropher in the library, where Malgalad was already waiting.  
  
"Forgive me. I was bathing my son," Oropher smiled faintly and ushered Malgalad into a intricately carved chair by the blazing fire. Oropher too sat down and proceeded to question Malgalad, for the Silvan Elves of Greenwood the Great hardly traveled far from the realm, save for great need. Most of the questions concerned the possible dangers and threats towards his own realm, though he was careful to mask it with the implication of all Elven realms.  
  
"The Dwarves have great skill I do not deny that Hadhodrond is mighty and beautiful in its own right. The trouble is that I feel a shadow over it and I am not quite sure what it is. The dangers and threats may be worse than we expect," Malgalad averted his gaze towards the fire. Oropher studied Malgalad's face for a while.  
  
"You do not worry about the Dwarves. It is something else, is it not?" Oropher frowned, leaning back into his chair.  
  
"I do not wish to say it. And I did not. The Dwaves of Hadhodrond were merely a topic to be told to others that do not need to know right away. It is about the East," Malgalad's eyes met Oropher's. Oropher then noticed that the usual sparkle of Malgalad's eyes was gone, replaced by an empty well of blue. This had to be a grave manner.  
  
"Do tell. I have ensured our privacy," Oropher looked towards the closed doors.  
  
"There has been rumors. And they are but rumors, but I fear the truth of them. They say a dark force is massing again. Evil silently creeps to the East and smoke rises again. That is all, but I believe it is enough,"  
  
"They are true, then?"  
  
"I would say most likely. The High Elves, I have heard, are already grouping together for alliance and defense. And that is also what I came here for. To ask for your alliance, in case of future need. In return we would aid you as well, Silvan cousin," Malgalad stood up, awaiting Oropher's response. Oropher gave a half-smile, stood up, and clasped Malgalad's hands.  
  
"We are allies, cousin. One and forever until the end," Oropher and Malgalad patted each other's backs and bowed to each other. "Are you sure you do not want to stay?"  
  
"Nay, I must get back to Lórien as soon as possible. There are other pressing issues. Farewell and may your rule and realm prosper!" Malgalad thanked Oropher for his offer and was escorted back out by another sentinel.  
  
"I fear Thranduil might grow up in a time of war and conflict. Such is the curse of the long lives of Elves," Oropher's shoulders sagged as he walked to his bedchamber. His robe seemed much heavier than it had been before.  
  
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	2. Worms and a council meeting

Silvan Soldier  
  
randomwriter96  
  
Disclaimer: Own nothing. Have nothing. ^^; Therefore, don't sue. Have nothing = have no money. Oo; Unless you absolutely have to have 15 cents...  
  
Note: This is my attempt at recreating Thranduil's childhood and life thereon using the info I have from the Silmarillion, the Unfinished Tales, LOTR, etc. And websites such as the Encyclopedia of Arda. Do not hesitate to tell me if I have a mistake or not. ^^;  
  
Enjoy. :o) And thank you for reviewing.  
  
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[One year later, when Thranduil learned to speak a bit]  
  
"MY LORD!!" a handmaiden's shriek erupted. Oropher widened his eyes and nearly tripped in his haste towards her. "THRANDUIL...HE..." Oropher quickened his pace, hoping dearly that it wasn't his worst nightmare. He found himself rushing into the kitchen. He took one look at Thranduil and doubled up in laughter.  
  
"Wom, ada! Wom!" Thranduil, covered from head to toe in mud and grass, waved around a tiny worm. The handmaiden, deathly afraid of all bugs, cowered in the corner, refusing to get any closer to the child. "Can keep?"  
  
"Of course you can keep it, child," Oropher chuckled, eyeing the 'wom'. Thranduil grinned, reaching up to hug his father. "Oh no. Don't touch these robes, now. They're the special ones for ada's council meetings," Oropher shook a finger at him. Thranduil frowned, then asked,  
  
"Nosey kiss?" Oropher smiled and leaned down, rubbing noses with his son.  
  
"There you go. Ada has to leave now. Be nice and take a bath. Your lore tutor is due any moment," Oropher patted Thranduil's head and called in a different handmaiden to usher Thranduil and his worm (kindly named Orphy after his father) off. "Please set up the tables for the guests of the council meeting. Dinner will be served about an hour thereafter," Oropher told the handmaiden who shrieked earlier.  
  
"Yes, my Lord," she seemed embarrassed and scurried off. Oropher adjusted his robes and headed out to the gardens. A large, circle was flattened and cleared for a spontaneous council meeting years earlier and was now devoted for just that purpose. Oropher felt that the fresh air could help him think more clearly. He gazed at the flowers, seeing that the roses were almost in bloom. He knelt down and cradled one in his hand, breathing in its fragrance. He seemed lost in his thoughts and memories after that, immobile for a while as he stared at the sky.  
  
"My Lord? They have arrived," Avanor, Oropher's chief advisor, walked up to him. Oropher broke his train of thought and quickly stood up to welcome the members of the meeting. There were advisors from Lórien and representatives from scattered groups near the Gladden Fields and elsewhere. Oropher eyes widened the slightest bit as he saw that Gil-Galad, High King of the Noldor, and his own advisors arrived, wearing gleaming chain mails. A last member arrived a little later and Oropher smiled as he strode towards the unexpected visitor.  
  
"Amdír!* I had not expected to see you here," Oropher gave him a brotherly hug. Malgalad laughed.  
  
"I had not either. I figured that no meeting of yours would ever be complete without me. Nay, I am jesting with you. I came to learn the news for myself. My advisors, I can safely say, are not the best ones you can find in Middle Earth. You do not look a day older than the last time I saw you," he grinned.  
  
"Nor you," Oropher chuckled. "How is Amroth?" He asked, referring to Malgalad's son.  
  
"Amroth is doing well. He is nearly of ruling age. I may retire sometime soon, actually," Malgalad smiled, letting out a deep breath.  
  
"In a couple hundred years or so?"  
  
"Perhaps. I can stand being a king for a while longer,"  
  
"As you will, my liege," Oropher mock bowed to Malgalad in a ridiculously exaggerated manner. They laughed and headed towards the meeting circle. Oropher then motioned for everyone to sit down.  
  
"Welcome, my friends and distant kin. We are gathered here to speak upon the uprising of the East, now no more a rumor, I hear?" He looked to Gil- galad to speak first.  
  
"We have confirmed distant sightings and have found some of Sauron's spies. They are multiplying slowly, but surely. At least, that is what we know for now. We are sending scouts near the East, for our part," Oropher frowned.  
  
"Are you suggesting we have done nothing?" He replied.  
  
"No, that was not what I implied. However, aid would be of great use, as you Silvan Elves would perhaps know the wilderness better than us," Gil- galad raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Indeed. But we give help out of our own accord. I will have to speak to my people. Only if they agree, will we willingly give aid," Oropher's voice cut the air like a knife.  
  
"Surely you are all against the evil force of the East. Neutrality is dangerous in seemingly safe environments. You may be assailed by the enemy, whether you agree to it or not. We ask for your alliance, for we are a weaker force without the valiance of your numerous people," Oropher closed his eyes for a period of time. When he opened them, he spoke.  
  
"All right. The Noldor will have our alliance," At this, Gil-galad smiled. "But, we are our own group. We are not to be ruled by a supreme leader or a majority and our decisions are our own," Oropher said solemnly. Malgalad nodded in agreement.  
  
"Lórien is bound to Greenwood. And so we shall give maximum aid as well. And upon the same terms,"  
  
"Without a supreme leader, you will be cut off and may fall, should Sauron's forces overcome you," Gil-galad's lips thinned.  
  
"Our realms are alone and independent. We follow ourselves and not any other. If we are cut off, we are cut off. If we fall, we fall alone and as one," Oropher's eyes grew dark.  
  
"Be it so," Gil-galad leaned back into his chair. He had tried and if they choose their own demise, then that was their own fault. The meeting continued with varying views and opinions from the different representatives and advisors and went on long into the night. Most had decided to stay overnight, then depart early at dawn. It was straight after dinner that Malgalad took his leave. Oropher saw him to the front hall.  
  
"You must leave now? I assure you, it will be more comfortable here. Most others are leaving at dawn,"  
  
"Yes. I have much to discuss with Amroth. I fear he may not agree with me. Thank you for your hospitality, dear cousin. I may very well see you again next year. Perhaps sooner," Malgalad waved farewell and rode off with great speed towards Lórien, should the sun set too fast. Oropher had his guards close the great doors to the front hall and departed towards the feast hall again. With luck, he would tolerate another one of Gil-galad's stories. Perhaps he would bring out the elderberry wine. It has never yet failed to put Elves to sleep.  
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* Malgalad and Amdír, I am supposing (for Tolkien had never really explained it), are the same person. Malgalad perhaps being his epessë, or "after-name" (otherwise a nickname), like Gil-galad is to Ereinion. 


	3. A bad dream

Silvan Soldier  
  
randomwriter96  
  
Disclaimer: Own nothing. Have nothing. ^^; Therefore, don't sue. Have nothing = have no money. Oo; Unless you absolutely have to have 15 cents...  
  
Note: This is my attempt at recreating Thranduil's childhood and life thereon using the info I have from the Silmarillion, the Unfinished Tales, LOTR, etc. And websites such as the Encyclopedia of Arda. Do not hesitate to tell me if I have a mistake or not. ^^;  
  
Enjoy. :o) And thank you for reviewing.  
  
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Gil-Galad awoke in the night with a nasty headache to greet him. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to remember what happened. After a few seconds, the answer came to him.  
  
"Elderberry wine..." Gil-galad shook his head. He had sworn to himself never to drink that again last year. And where were the silk sheets and the- ? "This is Oropher's. Right..." He groaned and rolled out of bed to find his way outside to get fresh air. "Oh, this place is impossible," He mumbled, trying to find his way through the one-floor labyrinth of a palace. He passed by a bedroom, when he heard a familiar voice. Gil-galad pressed his ear upon the door and raised his eyebrows to find that it was Halinor, one of his advisors. And he was speaking with a female, no less. Gil-galad decided he did not want to know any more at the moment. His head still throbbed. After walking along a few sets of stone corridors, he was sure that he was nearly towards an exit. Any exit would do at this point. But as he turned, he was met with even more corridors. He let out an exasperated sigh. It was caught in his throat, when a small elf dashed across the two-way corridor in front of him. Gil-galad was stunned and blinked several times in rapid succession. Do Silvan children normally stay up this late? He decided to follow the child, at least hoping that he could somehow find his way back to his guest chamber. He gave up on finding an exit anywhere. He paused when the little elf skidded to a halt in front of what could only be recognized as the master bedchamber. The little boy, as Gil-galad noticed by the nightwear, reached up on his tiptoes to turn the crystal knob. The door swung open and he ran inside. Gil-galad inched closer, staying just outside the door. Somehow, the small elf drew his curiosity. He heard a whimper, then a groggy voice.  
  
"Ada? Ada?"  
  
"Mm, not now..."  
  
"Ada. Scared. Had bad dream,"  
  
"Hm? A bad dream?" Oropher groaned and tiredly lit a small bedside candle. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, finding his son perched on the edge of his vast bed. "Come here and tell ada about it," The little elf crawled towards the pillows and hid himself underneath the giant covers.  
  
"I dreamed Orphy my wom bunned up," Thranduil wore the saddest expression any child could make.  
  
"Orphy the worm burned up?" Oropher rubbed Thranduil's back as he cuddled closer to his father.  
  
"Bunned up," Thranduil looked up into Oropher's face before burying his own back into the covers.  
  
"Well, I can assure you that Orphy is nice and safe in his wooden box. He hasn't burned up," Oropher pointed to a box that sat on top of a tall dresser in the corner of the room. Thranduil insisted that his father keep Orphy company at night, since no one else did. Thranduil had Hoppy, his stuffed toy rabbit. Oropher, remembering why Orphy stayed in the master bedchamber, hugged his son closer and glanced wistfully at the empty spot beside him. A lovely lady once lay beside him. He looked into Thranduil's tiny face. "Don't worry. Orphy's safe with me. I won't lose him,"  
  
"Not scary part though. Scary part was big red eye. It bunned Orphy up," Thranduil gave an involuntary shudder. Oropher frowned.  
  
"A big red eye?" Thranduil nodded. Oropher had never heard of such a dream before. Nightmares among elf children usually included dragons, wolves, giant spiders, and even the occasional axe-wielding dwarf.  
  
"It big. Really big. I tried save Orphy. But I couldn't. Couldn't move," Thranduil settled into the crook of his father's arm. Oropher pondered this odd dream.  
  
"Did Avanor start telling you scary stories again?" Thranduil paused to think, then shook his head.  
  
"Did you fall asleep in front of the fireplace?" Thranduil shook his head.  
  
"Lorry put me to bed," Thranduil said, referring to Loriniel, the handmaiden. Oropher nodded, then lifted up Thranduil so he was sitting up straight.  
  
"Well, whatever your dream meant, I'm sure it was just a way of showing how much you care for Orphy. Come now, time to go back to bed,"  
  
"No. I want stay right here," Thranduil tried to bury himself deep under the covers, but Oropher pulled him out.  
  
"If you do, you will have to wake up very very early. And I know you don't like to be waked up early," Oropher said. Thranduil shook his head.  
  
"No,"  
  
"Then come. I shall bring you back to your room," He glanced at his son who was presently chewing his braid. Thranduil looked pleadingly up at Oropher. "And yes, I will stay until you fall asleep again," Thranduil dropped his braid and smiled. He slid off the bed and grabbed Oropher's hand. They walked out the door and Oropher collided into Gil-galad. Blushing slightly, Gil-galad cleared his throat and bowed to the surprised Oropher.  
  
"I-I didn't know you had a son," Gil-galad shifted his gaze towards Thranduil, who was looking up at him curiously.  
  
"He is only three years of age. I did not expect you to know," Oropher bowed back in courtesy, rather stiffly.  
  
"I was looking for fresh air. The wine is not so kind to my head. But I would very much appreciate it if you showed me the way back to the guest bedchamber I am staying in," Gil-galad said. Oropher raised an eyebrow in amusement and sighed.  
  
"Allow me to return my son to bed and then I shall show you the way. I do not blame you for getting lost," Oropher swung Thranduil onto his back and carried the sleepy child to a nearby, smaller bedchamber. As soon as Thranduil's head hit the pillow, he was already sleeping soundly. Oropher tucked the blankets neatly under Thranduil's chin and placed a kiss atop his forehead. He shut the door behind him and looked at Gil-galad, noticing he opened his mouth to speak.  
  
"He is a beautiful child. He would make a fine elf when he grows up," Gil- galad said, glancing towards the door.  
  
"Thank you. He takes after his mother," Oropher let out a sigh and inclined his head down the corridor to their right. Gil-galad and Oropher walked silently for a while.  
  
"I am sorry about the meeting....but you do understand we need all the help we can get," Gil-galad turned to Oropher.  
  
"I understand," Oropher looked straight ahead.  
  
"Had I known you had a son, I might have thought differently. I would not- I would not want Thranduil to lose a father like you, should you...perish...." Gil-galad stared at the floor.  
  
"Neither would I. But I am willing to risk my life so that my son may grow in a time where he does not experience pain at the hands of evil. You were right," Oropher replied. Gil-galad said nothing. "Your room," Oropher gestured towards the familiar-looking bedchamber. Gil-galad nodded and bowed.  
  
"Thank you. Have a restful night," Oropher bowed in return and left. Gil- galad silently shut the door and placed himself in bed again. He felt a dull ache in his heart and found himself longing for a son of his own. He turned onto his side and after a few restless turns, he finally fell asleep.  
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How was it? ^^ *points to review button*  
Thank you's to Dragon, Roheryn, feanen, and Dragon-of-the-north. :-D 


	4. Gilgalad's blue cloak

Silvan Soldier  
  
randomwriter96  
  
Disclaimer: Own nothing. Have nothing. ^^; Therefore, don't sue. Have nothing = have no money. Oo; Unless you absolutely have to have 15 cents...  
  
Note: This is my attempt at recreating Thranduil's childhood and life thereon using the info I have from the Silmarillion, the Unfinished Tales, LOTR, etc. And websites such as the Encyclopedia of Arda. Do not hesitate to tell me if I have a mistake or not. ^^;  
  
Enjoy. :o) And thank you for reviewing.  
  
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Surprisingly, Thranduil woke up rather early. For him, anyway. He rubbed his eyes and frowned. What were those scuffling noises outside his door? He proceeded to shove his leggings on backwards, slip his slippers on, and open the door a crack to take a peek.  
  
"Eeh?" He widened his eyes. A lot of strange Elves were arranging their traveling robes on and talking rapidly to each other. As Thranduil went to bed early the other day, he didn't know practically all the attendants of the council meeting stayed overnight. Intimidated, though curious, he crouched down and crawled out of his room, avoiding the sight of the hasty strangers. After a bit of crawling, Thranduil decided that he was tired of doing so and stood up. Being so little, no one noticed him. Oropher, having already woken up about two hours ago, was busy exchanging last-minute ideas, opinions, and stories with the fellow council members. He thought Thranduil was still asleep and decided to wake him up after everyone left. Thranduil turned in circles, trying to see every elf. He found each one fascinating. A particularly tall and noble-looking elf caught his eye and Thranduil brightened. He knew someone!  
  
"Elfy!" Thranduil dubbed the elf spontaneously. Gil-galad, who was ready to return to Lindon, his kingdom, was startled to find an elf-child clinging to his right leg. The child looked up and Gil-galad recognized Thranduil. Gil-galad was never really the sort to attract children, so this pleased him greatly.  
  
"Good morning, Thranduil," Gil-galad set down his travel parcels and lifted Thranduil up and held him to his hip.  
  
"I member you!" Thranduil immediately started playing with Gil-galad's long tresses.  
  
"You remember me? I am honored," Gil-galad grinned and silently hoped the child wouldn't pull out his hair. Thranduil smiled and started investigating Gil-galad's lush blue velvet cloak. He rubbed his hands over it, laughing to himself. Thranduil began to climb over Gil-galad's shoulders to inspect the intricate woven silver designs on the back. "Oh wait. Thranduil, don't fall!" Gil-galad grabbed Thranduil's waist and put him safely back on earth. It wouldn't do well for the relationship between Lindon and Greenwood should Oropher find his son's skull cracked at Gil- galad's fault. Thranduil, unperturbed, continued to play with the cloak, grabbing one edge and sweeping the floor. He giggled and darted between Gil- galad's legs and began to play "tent". Thranduil marched around with the cloak covering him, forcing Gil-galad to walk backwards to the great amusement of the other elves. This ended up nearly choking him, so he unclasped the cloak, letting the entire thing fall on top of little Thranduil. Quite lost, the child turned and twisted, trying to find his way out. Thinking he was left alone and in the dark, Thranduil began to wail.  
  
"Oh no. No no," Gil-galad immediately lifted the cloak and patted the child's head and rubbed his back, worriedly trying to make him stop crying. Maybe this was why he was not so great with children. Gil-galad was frantic. The elves surrounded this little dilemma, smiles on all faces the way Gil-galad pampered and played with Thranduil. This was quite a different Gil-galad than the militaristic and harsh negotiator they usually saw. Drawn by the crowd and the wails of a child, Oropher strode over and discovered his son with Gil-galad. After a few minutes, Thranduil's cries subsided and having the attention of a multitude of elves, clutched the cloak nervously.  
  
"Oh. Good morning, Oropher," Gil-galad turned around to find the crowd parted for the king. He bowed and tilted his head towards Thranduil. Oropher returned the greeting and went to gather his son up. As Thranduil was still holding fast to Gil-galad's cloak, Oropher tried to tug it away.  
  
"Thranduil. This is not yours. This is Gil-galad's. We have to give it back to him. You wouldn't like someone else to take away Hoppy, would you?" Thranduil shook his head and let go of the cloak dejectedly.  
  
"No, it's all right. He can keep it," Gil-galad pushed the cloak back towards Thranduil. Before Oropher could open his mouth, Thranduil shouted with glee.  
  
"Eee!" He let out a squeal of delight and clutched the pretty cloak close to him. Oropher sighed and turned to Gil-galad.  
  
"I am sorry. How much do I owe you for it? It's too valuable to give away to just a child. I have to-"  
  
"His happiness is thanks enough for me," Gil-galad poked Thranduil's nose and laughed as he scrunched up his face before giggling. Oropher shifted Thranduil to his other arm and thanked Gil-galad profusely. Gil-galad's advisors tapped his shoulder, indicating that it was time to depart.  
  
"May we meet again soon," Gil-galad bowed to Oropher and Thranduil at the front doors. Oropher bowed as well, though not as well with Thranduil in his arms. Thranduil, with one hand clutching the cloak, waved energetically, calling out,  
  
"Bye Gilly Elfy!" Gil-galad smiled and waved back before mounting his horse, already brought out by the stable servants, and riding off west with his advisors towards home. Thranduil continued waving until Oropher turned and went back inside. Oropher still felt slightly bitter that Gil-galad managed to convince him into going to war with his people. It was just a matter of time of when the war was going to begin. Oropher looked at Thranduil, then at the cloak dragging on the floor. Oropher gathered the dragged half up in his other arm and wondered if Thranduil brought out something in Gil-galad that perhaps he never would have shown.  
  
"People are complex," Oropher murmured aloud. Thranduil nodded emphatically. Oropher looked into Thranduil's face and laughed. "Do you know what complex means, little one?" Thranduil paused as if to ponder, then shook his head happily. "Children are fascinating, don't you agree?" Oropher touched foreheads with his son. Another laugh rang through the stone corridors as a certain elf-child nodded again.  
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How was it? ^^ *points to review button*  
To Dragon-of-the-north: ^_^ At first, when I was writing the chapter, the dream wasn't meant to be prophetic, but then I thought the story would have more meaning that way. Elves, I believe, tend to be more prophetic than others anyhow. Thank you for reviewing! It means a lot to me.  
  
To Roheryn: Thank you!! :D It's wonderful to be on someone's favorites list. And yes, the "occasional axe-wielding dwarf" was meant to be funny. ^^;  
  
To tenshiamanda: Here it is. :o) Thank you! 


	5. Invitation to Lindon

Silvan Soldier  
  
randomwriter96  
  
Disclaimer: Own nothing. Have nothing. ^^; Therefore, don't sue. Have nothing = have no money. Oo; Unless you absolutely have to have 15 cents...  
  
Note: This is my attempt at recreating Thranduil's childhood and life thereon using the info I have from the Silmarillion, the Unfinished Tales, LOTR, etc. And websites such as the Encyclopedia of Arda. Do not hesitate to tell me if I have a mistake or not. ^^;  
  
Enjoy. :o) And thank you for reviewing.  
  
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[On a historical note: It's around the 3200's of the Second Age. I am making Thranduil about seven years old now, although in "reality" he would probably be much much older.]  
"What is this?" Oropher, who was copying manuscripts painstakingly in his study room, looked up as a messenger (a young boy of about 40 years old) rushed in and dropped a letter on his writing table. The boy was breathing hard and faltered for a moment before replying.  
  
"A message from Gil-galad, my Lord,"  
  
"Gil-galad? I have not heard from him for a year and a half..." Oropher mused while setting down his quill. "Thank you for coming all the way from Lindon. Would you like to stay?" The boy paused, then shook his head.  
  
"No, I must- I must hurry back. A small piece of bread would be greatly appreciated though," The boy hesitated.  
  
"Your name?"  
  
"Bregon,"  
  
"You look famished," Oropher looked at his weary face, "Amariel! Please take Bregor to the kitchen and give him food," A handmaiden came in and smiled at Bregor and motioned for him to follow. Bregor stared at her in sort of a daze, and then as if a sudden thought broke his gaze, he abruptly turned to bow, and left. Oropher chuckled and finished opening the letter. It read:  
To Oropher, King of the Silvan Elves of Greenwood the Great:  
The King, his family, and members of his advisory council and their immediate relations are invited to Forlindon for the annual Yavannië festival. It will be held on the 15th and all that come are welcome to stay as long as needed. Contests of skill will be held and those who wish to participate are encouraged to prepare beforehand.  
  
Cordially yours,  
  
Gil-Galad, High King of the Noldor, of Lindon  
At this particular moment, Thranduil zoomed in, his "flying" wooden toy dragon "roaring with ferociousness". Thranduil halted, seeing his father reading what he believed was some manuscript of great importance.  
  
"I'm sorry Father. You must be busy. I will come back later," Thranduil dejectedly walked towards the door. Oropher looked up.  
  
"I believe I can squeeze in time for my son," Oropher raised an eyebrow in amusement as Thranduil happily scrambled into his lap.  
  
"What is that?" Thranduil pointed to Gil-galad's letter which Oropher was still holding.  
  
"It's a very important secret," Oropher said with a wry smile and flipped the letter so that the blank side was facing Thranduil.  
  
"It is? Oh," Thranduil feigned disinterest and fiddled with his dragon, but Oropher saw him sneak curious glances towards the letter.  
  
"All right. I know you're curious. Here, but only if you tell no one else," Oropher pretended to carefully hand over the letter to his son. Thranduil widened his eyes. His father had never let him see secret documents before! Thranduil held the letter delicately and read it aloud.  
  
"Father! It's not a secret document!" Thranduil looked at his father with disappointment written all over his face.  
  
"I know. I was jesting with you," Oropher laughed and placed a kiss on Thranduil's head. Thranduil wrinkled his nose and rubbed his head. "You don't like my kisses now?" Oropher pretended to look as if the world has ended. And Thranduil pretended to ponder as he placed the letter on the writing table.  
  
"Nay, father," Thranduil decided and leaned to kiss his father's cheek. As his kissed Oropher's cheek, he blew a loud raspberry. Thranduil jumped off Oropher's lap, laughing and Oropher dashed after him, eventually catching him and tickling him to death.  
  
"That was for giving me a 'secret document'!" Thranduil giggled.  
  
"I know, son," Oropher smiled. They were sitting on the floor now. Oropher pointed to the letter on the writing table. "Would you like to go?"  
  
"What is a Yavannië festival?"  
  
"An Ivanneth festival, except in Noldorin fashion instead of Sindarin,"  
  
"Ohh..." Thranduil pondered. "Are you going?"  
  
"I believe I will. It would be nice to get out of the woods now and then," Oropher stood up. "Well, if you're not going, you can stay behind and work ahead on your lessons," Oropher pulled back his dark brown hair.  
  
"Wait! I'll come!" Thranduil quickly stood up as well.  
  
"No festival's fun without you," Oropher patted Thranduil's head and immediately began to draft a response. "It's nearly the 1st so we must begin to make arrangements,"  
  
"I'll help!" Thranduil said, attempting to take some important role instead of being lost in the rush.  
  
"That's my boy," Oropher smiled as he looked up.  
+++++++++++++++++++++  
[The Yavannië/Ivanneth festival]  
  
After a long trip, the Silvan party from Greenwood arrived at Forlindon, much to Gil-galad's delight. The more Elves, the better.  
  
"Greetings, Oropher!" Gil-galad bowed to Oropher and the other Silvan Elves. He received bows from all in return. "Hello, Thranduil," He bent down to face Thranduil.  
  
"Gil-galad!" Thranduil rushed forward to hug him and was rewarded with a lift into the air.  
  
"Oy! You must be getting bigger or I must be getting older," Gil-galad chuckled.  
  
"I am seven years now," Thranduil said proudly. Gil-galad nodded solemnly as if this news was more serious than news of Mordor.  
  
"A very important age. I used to be seven once. That was a long time ago," Gil-galad said, lost in thought for a bit. "Anyhow, on to other things. By the way, when did you learn my name? I thought I was Gilly Elfy," Gil-galad smiled. With a nod from Oropher, Gil-galad began to walk towards the gardens while Oropher chatted with other Noldor Elves of importance.  
  
"I remember calling you Gilly Elfy. But father said that was no way to respect the High King, so I finally learned that you are Gil-galad,"  
  
"Indeed I am. Are you joining any of the contests of skill while you are here?"  
  
"I thought it was only for old elves. You mean I can join?" Thranduil looked excited.  
  
"We are not that old!" Gil-galad laughed. "Well, you can join the ones we have for youths about your age. You have no idea how many Elves have brought their children. Hopefully, Forlindon will still be standing at the end of all this,"  
  
"And we are not that bad!" Thranduil attempted to look serious and dignified, only to break into peals of laughter as Gil-galad tickled him.  
  
"And if you win, you may get the attention of some fair young maidens," Gil- galad grinned as Thranduil shuddered.  
  
"Elf-maidens are not fun. All they do is brush their hair and sing. They do not play dragons or battles. Besides, the other boys say that if we go near them, they will give us an invisible disease. I do not want an invisible disease," Thranduil frowned. At this, Gil-galad laughed out loud, earning him some amused looks from other nearby Elves.  
  
"Elf-maidens have invisible diseases?"  
  
"You didn't know that?" Thranduil whispered fiercely, shying away from an Elf-lady with a long white dress walking by. He widened his eyes as she saw him and came closer.  
  
"My Lord," She inclined her head as Gil-galad smiled and greeted her in return.  
  
"Welcome, Galadriel. Lindon is honored to have you present," Galadriel smiled. She glanced at Thranduil.  
  
"I did not know you had a son. He is not illegitimate, is he?" Galadriel raised an eyebrow sternly.  
  
"Oh, no. No. I have no son. He is Thranduil, son of Oropher," Gil-galad stammered and brought Thranduil out from behind him. Thranduil shied away from Galadriel's eyes and looked at the floor. She peered at him intensely for a moment.  
  
"The Prince of Greenwood?"  
  
"Yes, he is," Gil-galad replied, confused as to why Galadriel stared at the boy. He thought he saw a hint of sadness in her eyes, but she quickly returned to her stiff nature.  
  
"I am sure he is a fine child. I will see you at the feast. I must go join Celeborn now," Galadriel inclined her head again and walked off. Gil-galad looked at her until she disappeared from sight. He was surprised to find Thranduil staring at the ground.  
  
"Are you all-" Gil-galad paused to greet other Elves of nobility. "Are you all right, Thranduil?" He resumed.  
  
"I'm afraid of her, Gil-galad," Thranduil continued looking at his feet.  
  
"She's a very powerful Elf-lady. Many people are afraid of her. But that is who she is. In time, you shall get to know her better," Gil-galad grabbed Thranduil's hand and pulled him up. Thranduil nodded as they walked off towards the feast.  
To be continued....  
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How was it? ^^ *points to review button*  
Yavannië: Quenya for the ninth month of the calendar  
  
Ivanneth: Sindarin for the ninth month of the calendar  
To Dragon-of-the-north: I guess it would symbolize Thranduil thinking of Gil-galad as a second father, sort of a role model and protector, you could say. I wrote the last chapter more for fun than for symbolism. But yes, if symbolism were to be included, that would be more like it. ^_^ Thranduil, by the Battle of Dagorlad, I believe is old enough to live by himself so Gil-galad would provide as someone he could lean onto for advice and comfort (not the slashy way, as some would interpret by reading this) rather than a guardian. I'm glad you liked the chapter. :o)  
  
To feanen: :o) Thank you!  
  
To tenshiamanda: Here it is. ^_^  
  
To amlugwen: :o) Thank you!  
  
To Lutris: ^^ Thank you! No there aren't that many little Thranduil fics...*sniff* 


	6. Being a Silvan Elf

Silvan Soldier  
  
randomwriter96  
  
Disclaimer: Own nothing. Have nothing. ^^; Therefore, don't sue. Have nothing = have no money. Oo; Unless you absolutely have to have 15 cents...  
  
Note: This is my attempt at recreating Thranduil's childhood and life thereon using the info I have from the Silmarillion, the Unfinished Tales, LOTR, etc. And websites such as the Encyclopedia of Arda. Do not hesitate to tell me if I have a mistake or not. ^^;  
  
Enjoy. :o) And thank you for reviewing.  
  
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Gil-galad and Thranduil entered a grand hall, adorned with sparkling jewels and hundreds of blazing torches. Long gilded tables and high-backed chairs of velvet completed half the hall while the other half remained empty.  
  
"Why is that side of the room empty, Gil-galad?" Thranduil, clutching Gil- galad's hand with one of his hands, pointed at the empty half of the hall with his other.  
  
"It's the floor for dancing," Gil-galad smiled and gestured towards the far corner where the musicians were.  
  
"Dancing?..." Thranduil stepped back, "Do we have to?"  
  
"It would be rude and impolite not to if someone asked you to," Gil-galad said.  
  
"I can't dance," Thranduil blurted out, looking at the floor and shifting his feet.  
  
"Of course you can dance. Everyone can-" Suddenly, Gil-galad recalled a disaster some hundred years ago: a clumsy elf danced right into a butler who was carrying a tray of stacked wine glasses. The glasses fell and broke, the spilled wine causing people to slip and fall onto the broken pieces. A few stitches were needed that day, "-dance," he patted Thranduil's head.  
  
"No, I can't. I can't remember the steps. I can't remember anything," Thranduil frowned and looked up at Gil-galad with watery eyes.  
  
"Well, it is far too late to learn now. I must attend to my guests. I suppose the best thing you can do is to make sure to stay out of sight once the dancing is underway. I am truly sorry," Gil-galad led Thranduil to a crowd of young rambunctious Elves and said, "Here, why don't you play with these boys and make some new friends? I will see you later," With that, Gil- galad left. Thranduil watched him until he disappeared into the crowd. More and more Elves were coming in. He wondered if the feast hall, even as big as it was, would seat everyone. He then turned around to face a small multitude of boys staring at him. All of them had brown hair so dark that it was almost black. They looked to be about his own age. Thranduil bit his bottom lip.  
  
"Hi. I'm Thranduil," He waited for a response. Any response.  
  
"You don't look familiar. Are you a Noldor?" A boy, a bit taller than the rest, came forth and scrutinized Thranduil, eyeing his much-lighter brown hair.  
  
"N-no. I'm Silvan," Thranduil was intimidated and fingered the bottom of his tunic. Thranduil didn't experience much with other children as he was nearly privately tutored in everything and Greenwood didn't have many children in the first place.  
  
"Silvan? What are you doing here?" the boy frowned. Thranduil felt a small pang of anger.  
  
"Why shouldn't I be here? I was invited,"  
  
"To a Noldor festival?" the boy raised an eyebrow scornfully.  
  
"A Noldor festival may be held by the Noldors, but it doesn't mean other Elves should not be able to attend,"  
  
"So you say," the boy replied haughtily, then changed subjects nonchalantly, "What were you doing with Gil-galad?"  
  
"Talking to him...." Thranduil replied slowly, as if that was the most obvious answer.  
  
"He doesn't talk to children. Much less Silvan children. Rumor has it that if children talk to him, he'll slay them. He's dangerous like that. You're a liar," the boy said firmly.  
  
"I am not a liar!" Thranduil said hotly.  
  
"Don't be talking to me like that. Haven't you ever heard of respecting your elders?" the boy sneered. The other boy Elves looked on with anticipation. Some were eager and looked at Thranduil with their noses in the air while others were afraid and nervously watched the two. "It is said that the Silvans are barbaric and run around unclothed and uncivilized. Is that what you do?"  
  
"You are sick and YOU are the liar! We are NOT barbaric and Greenwood has one of the mightiest realms in Middle-Earth! If I was not civilized, you would be dead! And Gil-galad is kind and nice to me! He's my friend!" Thranduil let the words spill out of his mouth, one tear running down his cheek. He cursed himself as he often cried when he got angry.  
  
"You Silvan piece of filth!" the boy spat and strode off alone. The other boys looked nervously at each other and quietly dispersed. One stood still facing Thranduil.  
  
"He isn't always like this. It's just his father doesn't like Silvan Elves and the family hates Gil-galad because his father didn't get the position of Herald. Elrond did," the boy spoke quickly. Thranduil calmed down.  
  
"I would've hit him but father said not to hit anything but orcs. And I'm still too young for that, he says," Thranduil said depressingly. "What is your name anyhow?"  
  
"Galion," he replied with a half-smile on his face.  
  
"Galion," Thranduil repeated, nodding. "Are you-" At this moment, a girl interrupted them.  
  
"Galion, come on! You have been talking to your friends forever! Father says to come back and finish your vegetables," the girl said, crossly folding her arms. She was the same height as Galion.  
  
"You're rude. I was talking to Thranduil,"  
  
"Who is Thranduil?" the girl turned to look at Thranduil and for some reason he felt embarrassed.  
  
"A new friend,"  
  
"Is he a Noldor? His hair looks far too light,"  
  
"Try talking to him, sister. He is right here," Galion insisted "Thranduil, this is my twin sister, Alaniel," Thranduil nodded to her.  
  
"No, I'm not a Noldor. I'm....Silvan," he replied, hoping she wouldn't spit on him and call him filth..like the other boy did.  
  
"No wonder...you have nice hair. Dark hair is dull. I don't like my hair," the girl blew back a piece of hair that fell over her face. Thranduil blushed.  
  
"Th-thank you. Your hair is pretty," Thranduil blinked and wondered why he said this. The girl giggled.  
  
"Oh, I'll just leave you two alone and go finish my vegetables," Galion smiled. Wait! Wait! Thranduil begged with his eyes. He felt uncomfortable being alone in the presence of a girl. A small warning lighted in the back of his mind, crying "Invisible disease! Invisible disease!" He wanted to back away, but he knew it was impolite. His father would surely reprimand him if he ever found out he was impolite to a girl.  
  
"So, are you going to be joining the contests of skill after dinner?" Alaniel's green eyes bored into his brown ones.  
  
"Uhm...yes, I am. Archery. You know, uhm, bows and, uhm, firing arrows.." Thranduil stuttered.  
  
"I like archery. Galion's going to be competing too, but in sword fighting. He likes swords better," she wondered why she rambled on about her brother. Thranduil nodded.  
  
"And you? Are you competing in anything?"  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"We were just talking about contests of skill. Are you competing?" He repeated.  
  
"Look at me. I'm a girl!"  
  
"I can see that..." Thranduil felt a mild flush creeping up his face.  
  
"Girls aren't allowed to compete," she stated sadly. "We might get hurt," she added, sighing.  
  
"In Greenwood, girls are allowed to anything boys can. Except fight in wars," Thranduil said eagerly. "Maybe you could come. Then you could compete," The girl smiled.  
  
"I would like that," They stared at each other for a moment.  
  
"Thranduil! I want you to meet someone," Oropher appeared and put his hand on Thranduil's shoulder. Thranduil turned around and smiled.  
  
"Yes, father," he replied and starting walking away. He turned his head and his eyes met Alaniel's. She blinked furiously when they disappeared into the crowd. That was King Oropher of Greenwood! And she was talking to the Prince!  
  
"Oh, I'm stupid...." she sighed.  
  
"Yes, we all know that already," Galion patted her shoulder sympathetically, coming up behind her.  
  
"Stop teasing. Do you know who Thranduil is?"  
  
"He is....Thranduil?" Galion frowned.  
  
"The Prince of Greenwood!"  
  
"He is?" Galion said incredulously. "Well, that's good if you marry him. You'll be a Lady. And that means I'll be a Lord." He smiled. "I saw you two talking a lot,"  
  
"That doesn't mean I'll be marrying him! I don't'-I don't even like him!" She blushed and turned away.  
  
"You are lying..." Galion said in a sing-song tone. She smacked him lightly on the forehead and angrily strode off. "You are lying," He repeated quietly and headed back to the tables as everyone else did. Gil-galad was about to announce the welcoming of all the Elves. Hopefully, it would not last a half an hour as it did during last year's festival...  
To be continued...  
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Note: I know in "reality" that Elrond is about the same age as Thranduil, but here I'm just making him a couple hundred years older. And I know seven- year-olds don't normally sound as mature as I made them sound...but seven- year-old Elves magically are. ^^;  
How was it? ^^ *points to review button*  
To Dragon-of-the-north: :o) no worries. Searching for a meaning behind everything shows that you're intuitive. Which I must say is a hell of a lot better than the "OMG!!!11 LEGOLAS IS SOOOOOO SEXIIIII!!!11" reviews I've seen on other stories. I've never seen a reviewer like you before, and it's quite awesome. Oh, and for that "illegitimate son" part, I'm trying not to make Galadriel sound too perfect or goddess-like. It could be seen as her crude sense of humor, I suppose. And thank you very much! ^_^ You know how to make lowly writers like me feel happy.  
  
To feanen: :o) Thank you!  
  
To Roheryn: ^_^ I hope I can keep up with your expectations. It was your favorite chapter? I feel honored! :D aww, thank you! I try to make the characters more "realistic". Key word being "try".  
  
To Lutris: :o) Thank you!! *gives you a cookie* 


	7. Archery Practice and Reflections

Silvan Soldier  
  
randomwriter96  
  
Disclaimer: Own nothing. Have nothing. ^^; Therefore, don't sue. Have nothing = have no money. Oo; Unless you absolutely have to have 15 cents...  
  
Note: This is my attempt at recreating Thranduil's childhood and life thereon using the info I have from the Silmarillion, the Unfinished Tales, LOTR, etc. And websites such as the Encyclopedia of Arda. Do not hesitate to tell me if I have a mistake or not. ^^;  
  
Enjoy. :o) And thank you for reviewing.  
  
Note: Ai! I'm sorry for not updating in so long. I've been busy, sleep- deprived, sick, the works. Lame excuses, but they're true. ^^; And now's lovely Easter break, so I have TIME! Here you go.  
  
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"Can I go play outside now?" Thranduil glanced at a very odd-looking dessert that was still sitting on his plate.  
  
"Finish your dessert, Thranduil. It would be impolite not to," Oropher patted his son's head and returned to his conversation with...someone.  
  
"Everything's impolite...." Thranduil muttered, sighing. He resolved to observing the intricate designs on his ceramic plate. He pushed the plate forward a little and delighted in seeing that it spun. The wooden and metal plates back home didn't spin so well as this! Thranduil thus amused himself further by spinning the plate faster and faster... Oropher turned and with surprisingly quick reflexes for an "old" elf, caught the plate before it fell.  
  
"Thranduil..." He said in a dangerously low tone. "I told you to finish your dessert..."  
  
"I'm sorry, father. But I'm just so full and I-" Thranduil started. Oropher sighed in defeat.  
  
"All right. You can play outside. But, remember, don't touch anything that doesn't belong to you. Now go have fun," Oropher kissed the top of Thranduil's wriggling head before waving him off. He watched his son leap out the distant archway that led to the well-lit gardens and pond.  
  
Thranduil reveled in the fresh air and the many different plants and flowers he had never seen before. He reached out to stroke an exotic, winding vine when...  
  
"I wouldn't touch that if I were you," a voice came from behind Thranduil. He spun around to see a taller, older-looking elf. He was still young, around his 40's perhaps. "It can strangle you if you aren't careful."  
  
"Then why does Gil-galad keep it here? And....who are you?" The elf looked strangely familiar to Thranduil.  
  
"For medicinal purposes. It said to be a very healthy and sweet ingredient for herbal tea. As for me...why don't you tell me who you are first?" A half-smile adorned his face. Thranduil was quite intimidated by his suave and dignified manner.  
  
"I-I'm Thranduil," He managed to get out of his mouth.  
  
"Thranduil..." The elf said slowly. "Ah. The crown prince of Greenwood, no?"  
  
"I am," Thranduil mumbled. He didn't like being referred to as 'crown prince'. It made him sound too regal for such a small child. He saw the pictures in history books in his father's library and he didn't look anything like them at all.  
  
"I've seen you talking to my brother,"  
  
"Your brother?.." Thranduil frowned in confusion. The elf smiled.  
  
"My little brother. The one that called you Silvan filth," Thranduil widened his eyes at this and instinctively backed away. "You needn't be afraid. I won't hurt you. My brother's like my father. Galion was a tad off the truth when he told you that our entire family hates Silvans,"  
  
"Do you spy on everyone? Or just me?" Thranduil narrowed his eyes. The elf laughed.  
  
"I keep an eye on my little brother. He has a tendency to start brawls and it would be disgraceful to the family if he started one in the high king's own home. Not quite spying, just eavesdropping,"  
  
"How come you're different? That you don't hate us?"  
  
"I know it's wrong to do so. And I know what's going on beyond the world of Elves. See, I read. I tend to stay with my lore and my books rather than learn the art of fighting and weapons. I'm queer to my family, but it's what I like to do. History can teach people many things. If only they learned more of what's beyond the wars and realms.." The elf mused quietly. Thranduil only understood about half of what he was saying, but was astounded by his seeming wisdom all the same. The elf turned to him and looked at him with an unnerving, piercing gaze. "You would do well to read more too. It's never too early to start," He paused. "Are you entering the contests of skill for youths?"  
  
"Would you be mad if I said yes?"  
  
"You are, then." The elf smiled. "No, I wouldn't. The art of defense, I am in agreement with. All elves need to learn to use weapons sometime in their lives. What area?"  
  
"Archery," Thranduil found himself trusting this elf more and was eager to get his opinion on things. The elf frowned and for a moment, Thranduil felt dejected.  
  
"My little brother is entering the archery contest as well. But do not worry, I'll watch him," The elf said reassuringly, "And you. Why don't you do me a favor and show me how good you are? Maybe I can give you some tips. I have a profound interest in archery." Thranduil brightened considerably. And older elf asking HIM to do a favor!  
  
"Wait right here. I'll go get my bow and arrows!" He rushed off, looking back once to make sure the older elf didn't run away. The elf chuckled. Ah, to be so young and have not a care in the world...  
  
"Father! Father!" Oropher looked down and found Thranduil tugging at his robes.  
  
"What is it, son?" Oropher raised an eyebrow, amused at the antics of his hopping and skipping son.  
  
"Can I have my bow and arrows now?"  
  
"What for? The warm-up session for the contests don't start until about a half hour later,"  
  
"An older elf wants to see me shoot!" Thranduil puffed up his little chest proudly.  
  
"And who might this curious older elf be?" Oropher smiled, prompting an answer. Thranduil paused. He didn't even know his name!  
  
"I don't know," Oropher began to frown and begin a lecture on talking to strangers when Thranduil immediately cut in. "But he's nice! He didn't let me touch a poison vine and he talked to me a lot. Really!"  
  
"All right. Ask Saldor to get your things for you," Oropher gestured towards a young, laughing elf on the other side of the room, "And be careful!" He added with a sigh and a shake of the head as Thranduil already rushed towards Saldor.  
  
"Saldor!" Thranduil panted as he skidded to a halt in front of the elf.  
  
"Yes, prince Thranduil?" The laughing elf immediately donned an attentive, respectful face. The other elves he was laughing with stared at the little child. What a small prince he was!  
  
"Can I have my bow and arrows now? Please?" Thranduil put on his best wide- eyed, you-can't-resist-me face. Saldor grinned and ruffled his head.  
  
"You can charm the whole of Middle Earth with that face. Come on," Saldor ushered Thranduil along towards the stables where the all the horses were kept. Correction: horses and ponies. Thranduil's little black pony was chomping hay when the two entered. The pony stared balefully at its master as if saying "Must you interrupt my dinner now?"  
  
"Sorry. Me and Saldor came to get my bow and arrows," Thranduil lovingly petted his pony and whispered so as to not wake the horses that were sleeping. The pony blinked several times and allowed Saldor to remove the bow and arrows slung on its back. It returned to eating again. "Can I hold them? Can I hold them?" Thranduil eagerly skipped from side to side when Saldor carried the bow and arrows.  
  
"Do you promise not to run while you're carrying them?" He raised an eyebrow. Thranduil immediately stood as still as a rock.  
  
"I promise," Saldor smiled and gently handed the boy his precious child- sized bow and arrows. Thranduil slung the quiver over his shoulder and walked as fast as he could towards the gardens again. Saldor shook his head and chuckled, returning to his companions inside the feast hall.  
  
"I have them!" Thranduil said eagerly, returning to where the elf was waiting. Or was supposed to be waiting. Thranduil, in confusion, looked around. He wasn't here. Thranduil's shoulders slumped. A rustling came from above in the tree he was standing under. In sudden shock, Thranduil nervously notched an arrow to his bow and pointed it upwards.  
  
"Good reflexes, but don't shoot. It's me," The elf leapt down from the branches and straightened up.  
  
"You frightened me! I thought..I thought you left me," Thranduil said in a sad voice.  
  
"No, I wouldn't leave you. I like to keep my word. But a good lesson this proves is that you cannot trust strangers so easily, even if they are the nicest strangers you've ever met," The elf warned Thranduil. Thranduil thought it over and nodded. "Now. Show me what you can do." The two walked over to a small glade of young trees.  
  
"Are you sure it's ok to shoot arrows at Gil-galad's trees?" Thranduil looked up at the elf.  
  
"Well, we can only shoot at one." The elf walked over to a particular tree and pointed at its chipped and scratched bark. "This one. All the young elves shoot at this one for practice. I remember how hard we begged for him to allow us this tree....but that was years ago," the elf smiled and moved to the side, prompting Thranduil to shoot at the faded painted target. Thranduil lifted his bow and arrow, self-consciously turning around to see that no one else was looking.  
  
"Don't be shy. That's the worst thing you can be in a contest. You must be confident. Intimidate the other elves and pretend like no one else is here. Pretend I'm not here," The elf advised. Thranduil nodded and repeated his words in his head.  
  
"No one's here. No one's here...." He muttered, aiming at the tree with one eye open. He released his arrow and it flew through the air with a whistle and hit one circle above the bull's eye.  
  
"Good! But not good enough," The elf said, striding over towards Thranduil. "You've got to hit dead center to win. Take your time and pull your arrow further back so it can slice straighter through the air." The elf reached around Thranduil's arms and motioned with his hands. For the next twenty minutes, the two practiced with no interruption. Thranduil's arms ached but he hit dead center twice! The elf smiled and patted Thranduil's shoulder. "You'll do good. I can feel it. Excuse me, prince Thranduil, but I must leave to help set up the contest. I would wish you luck, but I don't believe in it. Farewell! I'll be watching." And with that, the elf melted into the growing shadows of dusk. Thranduil relieved himself by lowering his arms and repeating all of the elf's advice mentally. Already, he began to miss the elf. He was kind of like an older brother he never had. Being an only child suddenly proved its disadvantages. Thranduil began to walk back to the feast hall when the corner of his eye caught a object in the grass, sparkling in the torchlight. Curious, he walked over and picked it up. It was a beautiful diamond necklace and entranced, he held it up to the light of the torches and spun it. He marveled in its radiance and ability to catch and play with the light. He looked around to see if anyone was looking for it and was about to put it in his pocket when a girl's shout interrupted him.  
  
"You found it!" The girl ran up to him and breathed heavily in relief. "Thank you so much! It belonged to my mother, you see." She pointed at the diamond. Thranduil handed it back to her with great reluctance. He knew it was wrong to want to keep someone else's treasure, but it was so pretty. Few jewels were seen in Greenwood. His father preferred to live frugally, rather than materialistically. The only jewels he ever saw, in fact, were the jewels in his mother's special box and the three green emeralds that adorned Oropher's special-occasion crown. A remark brought him immediately out of his thoughts.  
  
"You're cute," The girl giggled madly and took off, skipping across the grass. Thranduil blinked. What did she say? He was cute? What did that mean? He frowned in confusion and walked over to the unoccupied side of the pond (the other side was filled with racing toy sailboats) and looked precariously down into it. His reflection was faint and dark but he could see himself. Cute? Him? She must've gotten the wrong elf, he decided firmly and continued his walk back to the feast hall.  
To be continued...  
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How was it? ^^ *points to review button*  
To Dragon-of-the-north: :o) aww. Thank you! As for the fact that Thranduil can't dance, it's a little bit of both. ^_^ And for Galion....you'll see. And for Alaniel.....you'll see as well. :D (yes, I'm evil. I know!). x_o eesh. Sorry this reply is so short. I have to get working on the chapter so people won't bombard me with deadly tomatoes and pointy sticks. *hides away with computer*  
  
To feanen: :o) Thank you! ^_^ I'm trying to make Thranduil as "realistic" as possible as a little guy.  
  
To random reviewer: ^_^ Here it is!  
  
To Lutris: :o) Thank you!!!  
  
To I will arrest....: Thank you! And sorry. ^^; see lame excuses up there. 


	8. Two Princes

Silvan Soldier  
  
randomwriter96  
  
Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own LOTR. And I am broke. Yes.  
  
Note: This is my attempt at recreating Thranduil's childhood and life thereon using the info I have from the Silmarillion, the Unfinished Tales, LOTR, etc. And websites such as the Encyclopedia of Arda. Do not hesitate to tell me if I have a mistake or not. ^^;  
  
Enjoy. :o) And thank you for reviewing.  
********************************************************  
  
Oropher, finally free of conversational Noldors, quietly observed the growing chatter of excitement and activity in Lindon's vast and beautiful gardens. It reminded him of the merry festivals a while ago in Doriath...when there was a Doriath. Shivering at the memory of its invasion and destruction, he walked down a pathway, miraculously undisturbed by scampering elf children and flirtatious young elves. The trees lining the pathway were magnificent, candles gently swaying from the overhanging branches in their small brass holders. The soft light they cast illuminated the foliage and fell in beams around Oropher's upturned face.  
  
"Gil-galad certainly knows how to decorate his gardens...." he smiled to himself. His formal green robes swept against the pavement stones and brushed aside fallen leaves. While soaking in the view and the blissful atmosphere, he suddenly found that his feet took him into a dimly-lit secluded area, consisting of tall hedges that partially hid a plain marble bench. And that bench already had an occupant.  
  
"What are you doing here, Lord Elrond?" Oropher quietly stepped in front of the well-known charismatic elf. Although considered still young, he quickly proved himself worthy a position among the high and mighty. Elrond, quite startled, sprang up and bowed, immediately noticing the thin, shining circlet wound around Oropher's head. As Elrond took a few more seconds to straighten and observe the king, Oropher spoke again. "Are you hiding from someone? You look tense," he smiled a gracious and paternal smile, the kind that only experienced, older lords knew how to express, curiously enough.  
  
"Good evening, your majesty. No, I am not hiding from someone, but rather the noise and the stifling crowds. Not the mention the odd-looking dessert people seem to insist that I eat. I'm afraid it's a bit overwhelming for me," Elrond admitted, casting a glance at the brighter lights further off. Oropher nodded understandingly.  
  
"Yes, it can be....I hear you are Gil-galad's newly appointed military Herald?" Elrond lowered his head modestly.  
  
"I am...but I was already his vice regent. It is out of convenience really. I know many others who are more worthy of the position."  
  
"Indeed, son of Eärendil?" here, Oropher gazed directly into Elrond's bright eyes. "Such positions don't rain from the sky. They are given to those that will hold it well. And I deem that you will....How is Imladris faring?" Elrond smiled at the mention of his home and refuge.  
  
"Imladris is doing well. It is very quiet and peaceful. We have had no evil encounters...yet," Elrond let his face fall into worry. As he clasped his hands together, a flash appeared. Oropher glanced at a glimmering blue ring on Elrond's finger.  
  
"Vilya..." Oropher murmured. Elrond drew his hand back inside his long sleeve. "I did not know Gil-galad entrusted it to you."  
  
"It was a few centuries ago. I still have slight difficulties with it. I have to keep it on guard at all times. Imladris on guard at all times. It is tiring, but it is my duty," Elrond faintly smiled. "How did you know about it?"  
  
"I have met Celebrimbor once," Oropher said, sighing. "A very good craftsman. He is one of a kind." But he did not answer the question. Elrond decided not to inquire further. Oropher abruptly changed the subject. "You know, I would like to discuss the matters of lore one day with you although you may know more than I!" He let out a halted chuckle, and then let it awkwardly fade. "I don't have much time for lore," he continued wistfully. "I wish I did." Elrond, also well-known for his love of the library, sympathetically put a hand on Oropher's shoulder.  
  
"I am sure you will have time to do so once your son is old enough to rule Greenwood," he said, and added respectfully, "He would make a fine ruler, I am certain of it," Oropher simply nodded slowly.  
  
"I would hope so. He's still so young...only a child. I cannot imagine him ruling now, lest having holidays created for every single day of the year should become a Greenwood tradition!" the two laughed out loud. "Ai...I should be heading back. Thranduil is competing and would be sorely infuriated should I miss any of it. Would you accompany me?" Oropher turned to Elrond? Who could say no? Elrond thought as he smiled, walking back onto the pathway with the king towards the more livelier aspect of Elvish civilization.  
  
++++++++++++++  
Thranduil nervously clutched his bow with both hands and bit his lower lip. Warm-ups were already over and a tall, friendly elf was checking off names and constantly making sure the elf children did not fight each other. Children with weapons, especially real ones, can be dangerous. Very dangerous.  
  
'Where is ada?' Thranduil stood on his tiptoes to try and see over the heads of the gathering adult elves. They were all busy pointing out their own children and proudly nodding.  
  
"Thranduil! Have you been pinned yet?" Galion bounded over excitedly, his short sword safely sheathed and bouncing against his leg. Thranduil nodded, showing the little white ribbon pinned on his chest. "You're going fourth? You're lucky! I have to go first.." Galion pointed at the 1 written on his own ribbon.  
  
"What are you doing in sword fighting? You're not battling other people, are you?" Thranduil's eyes widened. Galion wrinkled his nose.  
  
"We only get to battle each other with wooden swords, but we get to use our real ones to demonstrate our sword abilities by ourselves. You know, swinging, slicing..." Galion babbled enthusiastically. He tilted his head after a moment, observing Thranduil.  
  
"Is there a bug in my hair?" Thranduil immediately froze, noticing Galion's curious stares.  
  
"No, there isn't. Don't worry. I was just wondering...how come you never told me you were a prince? I can keep secrets, if you didn't want anyone else to know, although it's too late now, I guess..." Galion looked at several elflings who were whispering and pointing at Thranduil.  
  
"I didn't think it was such a big deal," Thranduil muttered. "Plus, I want to be like you and all the other elflings. That maybe you might become my friend just because, instead of the fact that I am a prince. I don't- I don't have very many at home." Galion smiled.  
  
"I can be your friend! That is...you like adventure, don't you?" He looked skeptically at Thranduil. Thranduil nodded eagerly. "And cherry pies?" Another eager nod. "Then you are officially my friend, your highness," Galion bowed in an exaggerated manner. Thranduil laughed and poked him.  
  
"Get up! Don't do that....Oh! Maybe we can be normal if we're BOTH princes!" Galion looked at him with wide eyes.  
  
"You can make me a prince?"  
  
"Well...not exactly a REAL one. But we can pretend! You like adventure, don't you?" Thranduil smiled. Galion nodded and pondered.  
  
"Well, since you're the real prince, give me a title."  
  
"A title?" Thranduil looked bewildered.  
  
"You know, Prince of...something," Galion encouraged.  
  
"Oh! Ok. Um...Prince of...oh, everything's occupied!" Thranduil grew frustrated.  
  
"Cherry pies are not occupied," Galion whispered.  
  
"Prince of Cherry Pies?" Thranduil dissolved into a giggle fit. Galion pouted. "Well, think of something better then! As far as I know, being a prince of cherry pies can be a very yummy position."  
  
"All right! Hrm...How about Prince of the Battle Fields, Master of Sword Fighting? I'm sure my father told me story once that had that prince in it. He was very brave," Thranduil looked at Galion. He grinned.  
  
"It sounds like a real title! We can slay dragons and lead troops and kill THOUSANDS of orcs with a single hand!" Galion drew out his sword.  
  
"You are a lot braver than I am!" Thranduil said.  
  
"Pretend, silly! We can be just as old as our fathers," Galion said with a tone of complete assurance and pulled a serious grimace remarkably not unlike the disapproving faces of adult elves. Thranduil laughed and pulled a serious old-elf grimace of his own. "Not bad!" Galion surveyed Thranduil's imitation.  
  
"I tried," Thranduil smiled and shrugged, and began standing on his tiptoes again, looking for Oropher.  
  
"Are you looking for your father?" Galion inquired.  
  
"Yes...he's not here and the tournaments are almost starting! He promised that he would not miss any of it," Thranduil let his shoulders sag a little.  
  
"And he's right here," Oropher came up behind Thranduil. Elrond had excused himself not more than a minute ago, having walked quickly away from an elf maiden he recognized. She had been trying to catch Elrond's attention all year with no intention to desist. Which Oropher found amusing. The two elflings yelped and fell onto their rear ends. He laughed and asked, "Are you two all right?" The two elflings hauled themselves off the grass and nodded mutely. "Would you like to introduce me to this handsome young elf?" The king raised his eyebrows, smiling at Galion. Galion could only blink and stare.  
  
"Oh! Right, father, this is Galion. Galion, this is my father," Thranduil waved his hands between the two elves.  
  
"Well, hello Galion. Pleased to meet you," Oropher bent down and stretched out his hand. Galion didn't move an inch.  
  
"Galion? Galion, are you feeling all right?" Thranduil frowned and waved his hand up and down in front of his friend's mesmerized and frightened face. Galion snapped out of his stunned reverie and stuttered.  
  
"P-pleased to meet you too, your majesty...." Galion looked up at the noble, fair-looking (and rather amused) ruler nervously. He then whispered to Thranduil, "Did I say it right? Is that how I'm supposed to say it?" Thranduil nodded.  
  
"You did fine. Father does not mind so much about formal greetings, except when it comes to me," Thranduil sighed. "I had to take lessons on it."  
  
"And it taught you some very important social graces. That is important. Now, hurry along! Good luck to you both," Oropher gently pushed the both of them towards the large crowd of elf children, massing in the shadow of a large oak tree, nervously anticipating the coming contests.  
  
"Bye, ada!" Thranduil waved at his father and turned around, grabbing Galion's hand and the both walked towards the giant tree. "Were you feeling ok back there?" Thranduil looked concerned. Galion lowered his head.  
  
"I'm sorry. It's just that I've never talked to a king before..."  
  
"Not even Gil-galad?"  
  
"No! Not the High King, no....He's always surrounded by important people. I don't think we're allowed to talk to him. I'm too afraid, anyhow," Galion shook his head.  
  
"He's really nice! I'll bet he'll love to talk to you once he finds out you're a prince too,"  
  
"But I'm not really-"  
  
"Of course you are!" Thranduil carelessly waved his hand. "And go out there and win!"  
  
"Win?" Galion asked, a confused expression in his eyes.  
  
"Yes, win! Your name was just called," Thranduil beamed, looking at the announcer who was facing a crowd of cheerful parents and guests. Galion tensed up and nearly tripped on his way towards the swords ground. Thranduil intently watched his friend. He had a new friend! And a prince, no less.  
To be continued...  
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How was it? ^^ *points to review button*  
To Dragon-of-the-north: :o) Yes, I wanted to point out the love for jewels since I believe it's an important part of his personality and will shape his character as a ruler later on. As for the elf, he'll come up later! He's a nice one, so no real suspense or evil surprise. ^^; Thank you!! You must write on as well. I love your story.  
  
To feanen: :o) Thank you!  
To Lutris: :o) Oops, I must've made the chapter kind of confusing. The tall elf is the older brother of the elflings who insulted Thranduil. Both of them have no names yet, but they'll come up later. Galion is the one who befriends Thranduil almost immediately. And thank you for reviewing!! Hope you had a good break. :D  
  
To daw the minstrel: :o) So am I (interested in Thranduil's earlier life, I mean). I wish Tolkien had written a history about him. Thank you!  
To Hello...: Elrond has arrived. :o) Thank you!  
  
To ????: Here it is. ^^; Sorry. I'm a slow updater.  
To Lirinel: Thank you! ^_^ I'm glad you like it. 


	9. Ribbons

Silvan Soldier  
  
randomwriter96  
  
Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own LOTR. And I am broke. Yes.  
  
Note: This is my attempt at recreating Thranduil's childhood and life thereon using the info I have from the Silmarillion, the Unfinished Tales, LOTR, etc. And websites such as the Encyclopedia of Arda. Do not hesitate to tell me if I have a mistake or not. ^^;  
  
Enjoy. :o) And thank you for reviewing.  
********************************************************  
Thranduil bit his lip while watching the first archery contestant nervously walk to the center of the small archery field. He wanted to watch Galion compete but he was told to stay at the front of group, considering the fact that he was fourth to go. He ran a hand over his bow, fingers lightly touching the small cracks and scratches. His favourite bow would always be his favourite bow no matter what. The first contestant was being slow and precise...too slow, in fact. He hadn't touched a single arrow and was eyeing the target intensely for more than five minutes. The friendly elf that had been checking off names earlier was urging him to notch an arrow. There were 29 other young competitors. As the elves in the large group were sighing impatiently and whispering tips to each other, Thranduil shifted away from the group, a little off to the side. He spotted his father standing directly in the front with other noble Noldors. He was crossing his arms and patiently observing the first contestant. His gaze shifted to his son and his lips spread into a broad grin. Oropher waved and put a hand over his heart: a symbol for "I love you". Thranduil grinned and put two hands over his heart: "I love you more". As he did that, the bow he held in his left hand collided with his forehead. He let out a small "ow..." And vigorously rubbed it. Oropher put his fingers over his mouth to hide a sympathetic smile and attempted a look of severe concern. After several seconds, Thranduil looked over to Oropher and waved. He was all right again.  
  
"Lord Oropher, greetings. How was your day?" Galadriel suddenly materialized beside him, speaking in her quiet, stern voice.  
  
"Lady Galadriel, greetings. It is well," Oropher's smile faltered as he turned to the tall Noldor. The woman was like a parasite, moving from realm to realm, seeking a place of her own to dominate. And she had been haunting Lorien of late. Malgalad was more or less indifferent, despite Oropher's warnings.  
  
"That is good. You do not seem so pleased to see me," She kept her ghost of a smile on her face.  
  
That was another thing that baffled and annoyed Oropher: her bluntness. Some things are not meant to be said.  
  
"I am sorry. I do not mean to be. It must be the air, I am not used to being outside of the forest for so long," Oropher hated lying, but when it came to politeness, especially to Galadriel, lying seemed to be the only way to converse.  
  
"I see. You would do well to go inside, then," She raised a thin golden eyebrow.  
  
"My son is competing," Oropher focused his gaze back onto the archery field.  
  
"Ah yes, Thranduil. We have met," She grabbed his attention again.  
  
"You have? When?" He masked his anger with an air of curiosity. He didn't want his son to see Galadriel. The less he knew about her, the better.  
  
"When he was spending time with Ereinion. He is your only son then?"  
  
"Yes, he is," Oropher again turned back to observe the archery field. If she would just leave... Galadriel's eyes flitted from Oropher to Thranduil and back.  
  
"I will leave now. I bid you a good night," Galadriel said, giving a long look at Oropher before silently floating away. Oropher let out a deep sigh and his eyes fluttered in confusion. Why did she talk to him if she truly knew the way he felt? His thoughts were interrupted by the role-calling elf who shouted out Thranduil's name.  
  
"Prince Thranduil of Greenwood!" Oropher smiled as all the older elves' attention snapped to the little royal figure. Inwardly, Thranduil cringed. He had specifically told the elf that his name was Thranduil, NOT Prince Thranduil! Now that all eyes were on him, he began to feel the effects of nervousness. His bow was slippery in his sweaty hand and the young elves behind him were pointing and whispering. What were they saying? He swallowed hard and stood in the middle of the archery field. Now the field was put into a different perspective. It appeared to be a sea of grass, stretching in a wide circle, never-ending...And he was alone in the center. All alone. Short, fast gasps came from his throat and he cast his eyes wildly around him. The elf! He saw the older elf who had helped him with his archery earlier leaning casually on a tree off to the side of the field. The elf had smiled and pointed as his own head. Of course! The advice. What to do? What to do? Thranduil reached back and grabbed an arrow, while stumbling through his memory. Forget everyone else....focus on his target....wait until the wind dies down......what else? There was something he forgot! What was it? He turned his head to look at his father, receiving an encouraging smile. That relaxed him. He wanted to please his father. To show him that he had learned his lessons well at home. He then looked at the older elf and managed a small smile. He wouldn't disappoint him! He mustn't. Thranduil focused on the target. The world around him melted into a pale green mist with distant voices. The red target. That was all he saw. He slowly drew back his arrow.  
  
"Fly like the wind and as straight as a falcon....." He whispered. And he released it. He heard a faint thud as the arrow buried itself into the wooden circle. He blinked furiously and the world returned to normal. He sighed, relieved. It was over. He looked at the target. His arrow had been close! So close to the center....about half an inch away from it. Oropher let out a bated breath and tuned out the surrounding murmurs and praises. He strode to the field and plucked Thranduil off the ground. Normally, parents were not allowed to enter the field until the contest was over, but of course, the king of Greenwood was an exception.  
  
"You did so well, Thranduil! So well!" He kissed his son's forehead.  
  
"I did? You really think so?" Thranduil was overjoyed. So long as his father was happy, he was happy.  
  
"Of course!" Oropher put him back down. "Now behave and watch everyone else compete. You wouldn't want them to leave while you were competing, hm?"  
  
"Can I sit on your lap?" Thranduil flashed another one of his charming smiles.  
  
"How I spoil you...." Thranduil took that for a yes and scrambled into Oropher's lap once he sat down on the thick, soft grass. Cheerful and feeling at peace, Thranduil did not notice the older elf look at him in quiet pride and admiration. The little one could learn. And learn fast. Thranduil also did not notice the older elf's younger brother glare daggers at him and silently seething.  
  
'That Silvan, stuck-up prince thinks he can win everything! I'll show him who's better. Noldors always get first place. I'm going to hit dead center,' the young, spiteful elf thought to himself. It was almost his turn. 'Thranduil had better be watching so he can cry his eyes out over losing to ME'. A Noldor's pride is his downfall, it has been said. And it would soon prove true again.  
Galion sighed. That was the bad thing about being first, having to wait until everyone else was finished. The judges were passive and taciturn, revealing no clue as to who was the winner. He looked over to the archery field and stood on his tip-toes to try and see Thranduil. Where was he? He frowned and fiddled with his sword. Then the blessed words came.  
  
"And we're done!" The elf who was monitoring the sword ground announced. There were more contestants in the archery contest than the sword fighting, so the sword-wielding children quietly merged with the last of the archery contestants and watched. Those who did not do so well in the archery contest, mainly due to nerves, were sobbing in their parents' arms. Soothing whispers floated about the crowd like steam and the remaining adults were waiting impatiently. Patience may have been a great virtue among elves, but there were limits and the excitement of the tournaments pushed them a little faster than expected. Gil-galad was peering down at the judges' papers from the sword fighting contest, checking over the comments and approving the winners with his signature. A young lad discreetly walked towards the high king and tapped him on the shoulder, indicating that his task was carried out. Gil-galad smiled and thanked the boy, taking the wooden box from him and opening it. He would be presenting the winners with their ribbons. Soon, the archery contest was over and the adults let pent-up words fall quickly from their lips. After Gil-galad had checked over the judges' papers from the archery contest, he nodded and let the role-calling elf announce the winners presentation.  
  
"My lords and ladies, we thank you for attending this most exciting display of talent and-" At this, those who had not done so well in the contests started to cry again. After a moment of hushing, the elf resumed his speech, "- skill. We thank the parents for their support and the children, most of all, for being brave contenders. And-" One child who did exceptionally poor burst into tears and released a high-pitched wail. The mother apologized repeatedly and embarrassingly led her son away. The role- calling elf waited for a few moments before resuming again. Lucky that he has infinite patience, Gil-galad sighed. "- now we would like to announce the winners, starting from third place in each category." A different elf was assigned this task and took a piece of paper from one of the judges. One by one the winners came up to shake the elf's hand and to bend head forward to let Gil-galad loop the respective ribbons around their necks.  
  
"Ada, the third-place winners do not seem so happy. Third place is good, isn't it?" Thranduil looked up at his father. He was still seated in his lap.  
  
"It is good...but some children think that first place is better. They cannot see the larger picture. It is not the award that matters but what you have learned from your experience. Only then can you be wiser," Oropher patted Thranduil's head. He nodded and after a moment, turned his face up again.  
  
"They seem frightened when they see Gil-galad. Why is that?" Oropher opened his mouth and began to speak when Thranduil jumped up, startled, when his name was called for the second place in the archery contest. Thranduil sported a broad grin and gave Oropher a bear hug before leaping forward to receive his ribbon.  
  
"Here you go, Thranduil. Second place. That's very good," Gil-galad placed the red ribbon around Thranduil and patted his shoulder. He nearly fell over backwards when Thranduil flung himself on Gil-galad and hugged him around the waist.  
  
"Thank you, Gil-galad!" The Noldor children looked on in a mixture of shock and awe. What would Gil-galad do now?  
  
"Oh! Well, you're very welcome, little one," Gil-galad smiled and patted Thranduil's head. Thranduil grinned and skipped back to his father, who had stood up already.  
  
"Ada, look! It's pretty, isn't it?" Thranduil eagerly waved his ribbon, much to the envy of many other children.  
  
"Very, my son. Now do not flaunt it and keep it down. You do not want to make other children angry now, do you?" Oropher had noticed the looks of envy and fury flung Thranduil's way.  
  
"No, ada. Never. Would- Oh! Ada! Galion won first place for sword fighting! Hooray!" Thranduil shot over the field of grass and hugged Galion after he received his blue ribbon.  
  
"He seems to be so happy with second place. And happy for others as well. He will grow up to be a good elf. And he seems to love hugging everyone today," Oropher chuckled to himself. He watched the two small elves rejoice and wondered if Thranduil ever got tired of his old father and needed a friend at home. Gil-galad had come up behind Oropher and overhearing the self-observation, responded,  
  
"Indeed he does,"  
To be continued...  
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How was it? ^^ *points to review button*  
Oy, I'm sorry I am not doing the reviewer responses today. ^^; I have much homework to do and I must hurry off! Thank you to those who have reviewed though. Your feedback is much appreciated!! 


	10. Fear

Silvan Soldier  
  
randomwriter96  
  
Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own LOTR. And I am broke. Yes.  
  
Note: This is my attempt at recreating Thranduil's childhood and life thereon using the info I have from the Silmarillion, the Unfinished Tales, LOTR, etc. And websites such as the Encyclopedia of Arda. Do not hesitate to tell me if I have a mistake or not. ^^;  
  
Enjoy. :o) And thank you for reviewing.  
  
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In no time at all, the festival swiftly wrapped up at the end of the week. The décor was being taken down and the guests had begun to leave. Thranduil felt sad. He was just getting used to Lindon and he could even remember the way to the bathroom now. And he had to leave Galion behind....who knew when they would ever meet again?  
  
"Goodbye Galion..." Thranduil said morosely, giving his newfound friend a tight hug.  
  
"Goodbye Thranduil. Do you think...maybe you could come back sometime soon?" Galion said hopefully. "Lindon is not ALWAYS boring...."  
  
"Ada? Can I?" Thranduil looked up eagerly at his father, who was patiently waiting.  
  
"Perhaps. We will see," Oropher smiled. "Come, my son. We must hurry home before darkness settles in the forest."  
  
"All right, Ada. Just one more minute! I must say goodbye to Gil-galad," Thranduil spotted the high king and bounded over the grass and pavement stones to hug him. Galion, still uncomfortable with being close to the intimidating high king, stayed and shuffled his feet in the light dirt. He shyly looked up at Oropher.  
  
"Um....Thranduil is very nice. He's...very interesting. A good person, you know. Um..." Galion babbled. Oropher chuckled.  
  
"You do not have to talk about Thranduil. In fact, you know, I would like to learn more about you,"  
  
"Me?" Galion looked at him in astonishment.  
  
"Yes, you," Oropher confirmed.  
  
"I am eight years old....I live in Lindon," Galion turned around and gestured for emphasis, then lowered his voice to a whisper. "To tell you the truth, King Orpher...is it Orpher? Oh no, wait...King Oropher! Sorry, I'm very sorry, I didn't mean to...."  
  
"It's quite all right, young one," Oropher nodded.  
  
"Um....I don't like it very much in Lindon," Galion continued to whisper.  
  
"And why is that?" Oropher was intrigued. Lindon was beautiful with smooth white buildings and towers, beautiful and intricate architecture, sloping hills, and massive gardens...It was a fantasy land compared to Greenwood's stone palace. No wonder Thranduil was so enthralled with the place.  
  
"It's too quiet. Nothing happens. And we are not allowed outside the borders..." Galion scowled.  
  
"There is a good reason for that, you know. There are things in this world that you would not like to encounter, especially without the protection of your elders," Oropher patted Galion's shoulder.  
  
"That is what everyone says..." Galion sighed dramatically.  
  
"I'm back!" Thranduil landed between the two elves.  
  
"Well, wait until you reach your majority. Then perhaps you will be able to wander free. I believe I understand what you are feeling, but Middle Earth is not safe enough for a small elf like you to roam about. If you will, you are welcome at Greenwood should you pass by sometime," Oropher put a hand on Thranduil's shoulder and began to bid farewell when Thranduil cried,  
  
"Wait a moment!" He ran towards a familiar older elf that seemed to be searching for someone.  
  
"Thranduil," The elf smiled and bent down.  
  
"I'm leaving now and I just wanted to thank you for helping me with my archery and to say goodbye," Thranduil said forlornly. "What is your name? You never told me."  
  
"My name is Coirín," The elf adorned a wistful smile.  
  
"Remembrance of life? Why are you called that?" Thranduil pondered aloud.  
  
"I should ask the same of you, halls of star-shadow. For you do not look dark to me..." The elf's eyes intently searched Thranduil's.  
  
"Father said it was mother who named me before...she passed to the Hall of Mandos," Thranduil said quietly. Coirín put a hand on Thranduil's shoulder.  
  
"I am sorry. I understand, for my mother has passed as well," Suddenly, Thranduil found a strong connection between them and sighed.  
  
"Well, I must return home now. Perhaps we will meet again?"  
  
"The future will tell us soon enough. Farewell!" Coirín waved and Thranduil headed back down towards his father. When he turned around, Coirín was gone.  
  
Coirín walked a little ways down a wide path and arrived at his home. He went straight to the stables and took down his prepared pack and stroked the nose of his horse.  
  
"Why do you talk to him? That...prince! Answer me!" Coirín's younger brother appeared and his eyes flashed angrily.  
  
"I talk to whom I please, Morfeän. His heart is good and pure, unlike your stained one. You have been corrupted by false hatred and fail to realize it. I am leaving Lindon. This place holds no joy for me anymore," Coirín leapt swiftly onto his horse and urged him out of the open stable gateway. "Goodbye, Morfeän. Maybe your heart is not too late for change. I head to Imladris. Give my regards to father. Hyah!" With that, Coirín dug his heels sharply into his horse and galloped off towards the smaller west exit. Morfeän was stunned. He knew his brother had never really liked him and was different than him and their father. But he had never expected a departure at all, much less a sudden one.  
  
"What have we done?" He whispered to himself and headed back into his house. That would be the last time the two brothers ever saw each other.  
  
Thranduil turned at the sound of a distant galloping horse and saw a rider, too far away to be discernable. For some reason, that caused a feeling of gloom to wash over him. He shook his head and clambered onto his black pony.  
  
"Goodbye Galion! I'll try and come back soon," Galion nodded and waved as the party left towards Greenwood. Gil-galad was seen sharing farewells with Oropher and his advisors and waved until the horses left the edge of the borders.  
  
"Well, we are heading home now," Oropher looked down from his grand chestnut horse to Thranduil on his pony.  
  
"I know. I missed my room. And our food," Thranduil grinned, his pony cantering twice as fast the horses to keep up with them.  
  
"Of that I have no doubt," Oropher laughed. Once they had been cantering for about an hour or so, the king set his horse at a faster pace, everyone else following.  
  
Near nighttime, the exhausted party reached the western border of Greenwood. Elven horses (and pony) had remarkable speed and agility, able to cover distances no regular horse could match up to. They entered the darkening woods and lit up torches when they neared the center and began to turn northwards to Oropher's kingdom, when a small request halted the journey a bit.  
  
"Ada?" All eyes turned to the small voice of Thranduil. Uncomfortable, he asked his pony to stop, thus causing all the other horses to halt, and got down. He stood close to Oropher's horse, head barely brushing the beast's stomach, and whispered,  
  
"Ada, can I go?"  
  
"Go where, Thranduil?" Oropher looked down at his son.  
  
"You know...go..." Thranduil gestured subtlely at the trees behind him.  
  
"Oh! Of course you can. Don't stray far and come straight back," Oropher smiled and turned to his advisors and their wives, "We will be resting for a few minutes." They nodded and sighing, dismounted and stretched their tired limbs.  
  
Thranduil pulled up his leggings after doing his business and spotted a rabbit looking curiously at him.  
  
"You better not have seen me before I pulled my leggings up," he narrowed his eyes. The rabbit just twitched his whiskers. His ears were unusually long. Thranduil, being his curious self, walked over and reached out to pet the silent creature. It bounded away in one leap, sat on its haunches, and continued to look at Thranduil. "I won't hurt you," Thranduil whispered and reached out again. Again, the rabbit bounded away, sat, and looked at the Elven prince. For a few minutes, the frustrated prince followed the rabbit this way.  
  
Suddenly, the rabbit disappeared in one fell swoop. Startled, Thranduil looked around wildly. Where did it go? Rabbits could not disappear like that! A clicking noise from above captured his attention. Thranduil's eyes followed the noise and he stumbled backwards in fear. Eight piercing-red eyes glowed and hungrily stared down at the lone child. A massive body of a giant spider emerged from the shadows of the trees and advanced on Thranduil. His heart pounded painfully and he attempted to get up, but his hands were shaking too hard to support even his small frame. He opened his dry mouth and let out a loud scream,  
  
"ADA!"  
  
Oropher was brushing the coat of his horse when the bloodcurdling shriek reached his ears. He reeled in fear and clutching his torch tight in his hands, he dashed in the direction of the petrified voice of his son. He halted suddenly in the view of the tremendous monster and though he was frightened himself, he steeled his nerves with the thoughts of love for his son and drew his long, bright sword. The light of the torch hit the smooth metal and the sword shone in the spiders' eyes. A few advisors had run after the king, the rest remaining to protect the females. They had on hand their bows and immediately drew their bows back, arrows notched securely in place. The spider recognized a group of protective armed elves when it saw one and hissing, it scuttled back into the dark shadows, loudly clicking its pincers. The elves widened their eyes at the close-by responses of more clicking. Oropher sheathed his sword and swiftly picked up a shaken Thranduil. He clutched him close to his body and once they got back to their horses, which by now had sensed the presence of evil and were nervously snorting, Oropher spoke quietly and quickly to Thranduil. Thranduil looked up and what he saw frightened him. He saw his father's eyes not filled with laughter or joy or even somberness, but with uncalculated fear that consumed them.  
  
"Ada?" Thranduil clutched at his father's clothes and buried his face into it. Oropher bit his lip and held his son closer.  
  
"Listen, Thranduil. This path towards home is not safe anymore. You MUST take a different route. Do you understand? I am putting you in Saldor's care for now. And you will head straight home. The other advisors are coming with me to find out the intrusions of these spiders and to hunt their lair. Then I will meet you at home, all right? All right, Thranduil?" Oropher's voice began to shake. "Be safe! I love you." Thranduil was confused.  
  
"Ada, I don't want to go! I want to stay with you. Stay with me, ada," Thranduil eyes looked up pleadingly.  
  
"No. This is for the best. Go with Saldor. Hurry!" Saldor came over and with a gulp and nod from Oropher, he plucked Thranduil from his father's hold and placed him on his horse. Saldor leapt up behind Thranduil and held him tightly around the waist. Saldor said no word as he turned to face the west again and silently urged his horse through the trees. A few advisors would lead the women the same way a few minutes later. Thranduil struggled as he cried out, tears streaming down his cheeks.  
  
"Ada, don't leave me! DON'T LEAVE ME, ADA!...." Oropher's heart pained at this desperate plea from his son and he tried to tune it out.  
  
"We are ready, my lord," an advisor came up behind the king, who was staring into the in the direction the spider went. The others were readily armed and they mounted their horses and took off with quick speed after the spider.  
  
After swift riding near the edge of the western border and turning northeast into the forest pocket under the two crossing rivers, the tired pair reached the entrance of the stone palace. Thranduil was still silently weeping, muttering incoherent words and pleas. Saldor quickly gathered the child into his arms, dismounted, and opened the enchanted doors of which only the hands of elves could open. Immediately, the Elven inhabitants rushed forward and were shocked to only see the two instead of the expected party.  
  
"What happened?" and "Where is everyone else?" fell from many lips. Someone led Saldor's horse to the indoor stables.  
  
"Spiders have begun to infest the south of this forest. Two or thirty, we do not know. It seems evil has begun to creep upon us. The king and half the advisors are pursuing them and attempting to find the lair and the women and the other half are coming soon. Someone alert our eastern patrols, for they are closest, and tell them to head south down the center. We must make sure the king and councilors come back safely," Saldor spoke quickly. Everyone looked with pity at the sobbing child in Saldor's arms. "I'll take him to his room." Saldor glided through the worried crowd and through the corridors. Errand runners and messengers were sent on the smaller sprinting horses to the eastern border to inform the patrols there.  
  
"Shh, your father is a brave lord. He will be back soon, don't you worry...." He whispered soothing words and the flow of tears on Thranduil's face seemed to slow a bit, but he refused to sleep.  
  
"Ada.....come back....." Saldor could discern from the mumbling of the clearly shaken prince.  
  
"Just wait. He'll be here soon. Just wait," Saldor enveloped Thranduil into his arms and the prince buried his face into the soft cloth. Waiting for his father would prove to be one of the longest waits of his life.  
  
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How was it? ^^ *points to review button*  
  
Dragon-of-the-North: :D Thank you! It was? (the description of Thranduil's aiming and shooting) I thought it was too short! :o) As always, your reviews are wonderful and lovely. No worries, symbolism's coming soon. ^_^ (And to your previous review): Nah, Elrond loves cherry pies. :D who wouldn't? I would've liked to add more about Doriath, but it would've taken away some of the story's focus, I suppose. Plus, I do not know much about Oropher's involvement in the invasion. I admit I'm lazy when it comes to research. ^^; And yes! Galion won. Thank you again for your reviews. I'm touched. :o)  
  
Feanen: Thank you! :o)  
  
Lutris: Galion's coming along in the next chapter, although he won't be meeting Thranduil for a bit. Thank you for your kind review! :o)  
  
ShadowFocs: Eh, I know it's a bad habit. ^^; But I can't help it. I'm super busy nearly all the time. I updated chapters 9 and 10 consecutively, a lot quicker than I expected. So, enjoy! Thank you for your review. :-) Yes, Thranduil will meet Elrond. But not for a while in this story.  
  
Dot: Thank you very much! ^_^ I'm a bit shaky, really, at characterization and its developments, but I try. 


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